Bitter Soul
by Rocket1x
Summary: everyone stare at the disfigured girl, let's laugh at her misfortune. Let's destroy the girl – push her into the ground, because it is not like she hates herself already. It is not like she hasn't looked into a mirror and seen the monster staring back.


**Bitter Soul**  
><span>Summary:<span> Look, everyone stare at the disfigured girl, let's laugh at her misfortune. Oh what fun it is, let's destroy the girl – push her into the ground, because it is not like she hates herself already. It is not like she hasn't looked into a mirror and seen the monster staring back. I understand what I am; something that scares young children at night, something people run and hide from.  
>I am me, I am Hermione Jean Granger.<p>

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><p>I watched them grow up, from a distance. Once I thought that we were, or could be friends; a trio. I don't know what I was thinking; how could someone like me be friends with people like them. One like me could never been in the spotlight they seem to hold so well, it always amazed me how they do. I know that I can't ever be part of <em>their<em> world; not in the sense of being a friend. No one ever really wants to be my friend. Sure people talk to me, but they aren't my friends, I can't depend on them to pick me up when everything goes to shit. The constant reticule I deal with every day is enough to send some people into the welcoming arms of death, but even though my fingers are slipping; I hold onto this Earth, with all my might.

I remember being so excited the day I received the letter from Hogwarts; informing not only me, but my parents that I was a Witch. I would be attending a Wizarding school; Hogwarts under the headmaster Dumbledore. It was like a dream; I re-read the letter countless times, to assure myself it was in fact real. I counted down the days until my first day of school; I was so excited, so foolish to actually believe this would be a world I would be accepted in.

When September 1st rolled around I could barely contain myself, I had read every book that I had collected a few weeks earlier; desperate to have a good understanding of what kind of world I was going to find myself in. On paper a world with magic and fantasy creatures is normally what one dreams of; sounding like possibly the best of adventures to a muggle or muggle born. I was no different and for a time it was. It was everything I could have hoped for, until my bubble shattered that Halloween.

I remember thinking _"this Halloween will be the best yet"_, surrounded by magic, and instead of dressing up like a Witch I was one. It started off well, in the morning I awoke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin that was wafting through the corridors. The hall had been decorated according to the date, the Great hall had jack-o-lanterns floating above us and the halls were full of black cats and other stereotypical Halloween decorations. It was truly spectacular.

Later that day during charms, Professor Flitwick announced that we were going to start to make objects fly; which we had all were dying to do after he made Neville's toad fly around the room. We were put into pairs and I was unluckily enough to be stuck with Ronald Weasley. Flitwick went over the motion of the wand and the spell _Wingardim Leviosa._ At first I watched Ron _attempt_ to make his feather fly; he shouted the spell then started waving his arms about like a windmill, almost hitting those around him. Gradually he got more and more frustrated with his lack of results. It was so pathetic, like watching a fish trying to swim on land. Finally I snapped, telling him that he was pronouncing the spell wrong, trying to be helpful. Of course my help was not appreciated.  
>I was the first to raise the feather off the desk, which resulted in high praise from Professor Flitwick, and slight glares from the rest of the struggling class; for some reason spells always worked well on my first tries.<p>

I left a little later than the rest of the class, as I walked behind Ron and Harry pleased overall with how the lesson went; their loud voices floated towards me. I can remember the words perfectly, every word Ron said:  
><em>"It's no wonder no one can stand her' he said 'she's a nightmare honestly'<em>_  
><em>I pushed my way past them, knocking into Harry as I rushed past, tears were spilling from my eyes. I had only been trying to help.

I took shelter in the nearby girl's bathroom, slamming myself shut into a stall, letting the tears pour from my eyes. I had felt like an outcast before that, being one of the few witches born from muggles, but after what Ron had said every insecurity I had thought of over the past few months seemed to bombard me. Gradually my sobbing subsided and I decided to join the feast and not let little boy's petty words get to me anymore. I opened the and instead of seeing my reflection in the mirror opposite, or another girl washing her hands; there was a twelve foot tall troll. Its skin a dull, granite grey; with a great lumpy body like a boulder and a small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks and horny feet. The smell from it was simply vile. There in its grasp was a large, heavy, wooden club; which it started to swing around, destroying sinks and bathroom stalls. I had never seen anything more terrifying in my life and I hope I never will again.

The last thing I remember was shrinking against the wall opposite and hearing high pitched screams. Then nothing.

I awoke three days later in white, sterile hospital wing, surrounded by some worried teachers. No one else, no friends or family. My whole left side felt heavy and wooden; wrapped tightly in bandages, from my face down. When I asked what had happened, they told me I was found under a pile of rumble in the girl's bathroom; and my left side was untreatable. I should be thankful that I was alive, but that feeling soon faded.

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><p><em>Edited by XandallthatjazzX<em>


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